


A Tale of Times Gone By

by Accidental_Ducky



Category: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2201622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidental_Ducky/pseuds/Accidental_Ducky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wraps an arm around my waist pulling me until my back was flush against his chest. "I love you, Rebecca." It only takes those simple words to bring me back to reality. Sitting up, I begin to search for my night dress. "Don't lie to me, Dorian; you only love yourself."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caught in the Storm

Gun retort echoes loudly, filling the quiet afternoon with its sharp pops that were a nuisance to my ears. Still, I don't look away from the letter I was reading over, smiling at the news from London that my cousin had sent me. My daughter, on the other hand, looked around sharply, her book falling from her hands as she stood. She had been perched on the railing of the veranda, reading one of my old spell books when the shooting started, but now she had the skirts of her dress clutched in her hands and was moving to go down the short set of stairs. "Did you hear that," Cassie asks worriedly.

"I did indeed," I murmur in return, glancing back to the letter. "Sit down, dear, I'm sure it's nothing Alan can't handle by himself."

"But what if he can't handle it?"

"Your plan is to run inside the tavern and do what exactly? You're not yet strong enough to perform a killing spell and stunning them won't accomplish much of anything. Now sit down." When I don't hear her footsteps on the stairs, I look up again and see her frozen in place, staring at something behind me in confusion. Curious now, I shift in the wicker seat and find a man running away from the tavern only to stumble to the ground after another loud pop of gunfire. "There, you see, Alan handled it." I turned back to my original position when I spot Alan and another man running towards us, fully confident that my friend would tell me anything I needed to know once he reached us.

It wasn't until I heard a loud explosion that I jumped up, running to push my daughter behind me before facing whatever threat awaited me. The tavern was ensconced in flames, bits of wood and glass falling to the ground and thick smoke curling into the sky—the black of it harsh compared to the cheerful blue. "Mother, what could have caused that?"

"A bomb," I answer breathlessly, not taking my eyes off the scene as people began to run for water to put out the blaze. "Go inside, Cassandra, and wait for me."

"But, Mother-"

"Cassandra Ruth, do as I said." She must have heard the panic in my voice because she didn't protest further, running inside and closing the door behind her as I made my way to where Alan was standing. He looked a bit roughed up, but no worse for wear. "Where's Nigel," I ask after making sure he was completely okay.

"In there," Alan replies sullenly," he was dead before the building exploded." I look at the burning building over my shoulder as Alan leads me back to the house we've been sharing. "You and Cassandra should pack your bags—I'll be going to London and I don't want to leave you both here without some protection." I give him a look. "You know what I mean."

"Alright, I'll ask a cousin to watch Cassie while you and I do whatever mission is calling you away." He looks at me in protest, but I hold up a hand to cut him off. "I'll not hear it, Alan. I'm old enough to decide what I wish to do." It was true, I'm older than Alan by a few years, though I only look to be about twenty-six. "Now, how about we have some dinner before we have to leave?"

* * *

 

I pull Cassie to me in a tight hug, my cheek resting against the top of her head. "Be good, okay," I tell her while fighting back tears," you know your cousin can only do so much." Cassie nods her head quietly, looking displeased, but knowing that I was doing what was right. "I love you, Cassie, and I'll see you again soon."

"Love you too, Mother." She grabs her suitcase and walks up the spiral staircase to her room.

"She looks exactly like you, Cousin," Charles tells me with a laugh, taking one of my hands in his much larger one. I smile up at my cousin, some of my dark hair falling over my shoulder. "You know, I wouldn't mind  _both_ of you staying here." Charles hates what I'm going to do even though we're not completely sure what that is yet.

"I'll come back, I always do."

"Rebecca—"

"Charles, do I have tie you to a chair again?" He raises one bushy, white eyebrow at my statement, no doubt remembering the last time I went through with one of my minor threats. "Or shall I leave you on the ceiling and hope my daughter remembers the spell to bring you down again?" He shudders, picking up my suitcase and gesturing me to follow him outside to my awaiting coach. "I'll see you soon, Cousin."

"I hope so for the sake of Cassandra." He shuts the coach door without another word and goes back into his home.

* * *

 

I was about to enter the meeting room when something flicks the back of my head. Turning quickly, I lash out, but hit nothing. "What?" Arms wrap around my waist and spin me around in a circle—the thing that confused me was that when I looked down I could only see myself and not anyone else, then it dawns on me. "Rodney Skinner, put me down or I'll blast you into next month," I growl threateningly. With a chuckle, I'm placed back on my feet.

"Nice to see you too, Becky." I elbow what I think is his stomach, hearing a satisfied  _oof_  from him directly afterwards.

"Call me that again and I'll aim lower." He places an arm around my shoulders and leads me the rest of the way into the spacious room filled with books and one long table; a few gas lamps on the wall in the small spaces where there were no bookshelves. At certain intervals there were paintings of a few men in groups of three or more that I did not entirely recognize.

The only people in the room, apart from Skinner and me, are Alan in the same filthy white shirt, leather vest, knee-high boots, and brown trousers he was wearing the day before; an Indian dressed in blue and white clothing and an expensive looking turban, and another, slightly attractive man that immediately caught my eye as I walked in. There's something not quite right about him, but I keep my mouth shut and give him a polite smile.

"A chemist," Skinner asks with mild interest, picking up on the scrap of conversation we heard as we entered," do we get to blow something up, then?" I roll my eyes, sitting next to Alan. Alan takes off his glasses and blinks, looking around.

"My eyesight must be worse than I thought," he says with a small chuckle.

"No, your eyesight's fine," Skinner replies, slamming a folder down on the table in front of me, causing Alan to jump, stand up quickly, and point at the man seated across from him that had yet to tell me his name.

"No games, M."  _What a strange name to want to go by_. M simply smiles and rises to his feet and walk around to stand behind his chair.

"Some time ago, a talented, albeit misguided man of science discovered the means to become invisible," M informs us. I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms and looking around me. Skinner pats my shoulder, but I pretend that I didn't even know he was there for the simple reason that I knew it irritated him to be ignored.

"The man died later on, but he process didn't. You see, I stole it, and here I stand for all to see," Skinner quips, patting my shoulder even harder than before.

"Is this some parlor game," Alan asks disbelievingly.

"Believe it." Skinner shoves Alan slightly and probably barely missed being hit a second later. Alan may be getting a little long in the tooth, but he was as quick as ever and didn't miss much. "Easy now, Alan. I'm feeling a bit of a draft in my nether regions, and I must say, it's quite refreshing." The last bit was said in my ear before Skinner pulls on a black, leather coat that stopped around his ankles. "Allow me to introduce myself, Rodney Skinner, gentleman thief." He pulls a canister of white paste out of the coat pocket. "Now, I thought invisibility would be a boon to my work. Well, you can imagine it was my  _undoing_. Once you go invisible it's bloody hard to turn back again." He smears the paste over his head to make it easier for all to see him.

"We finally caught him," M states with amusement in his voice.

"And they'll provide an antidote…Well, that's if I'm a good boy." I scoff at the part of him being good. "You think that's funny, Rebecca?"

"The day you're a good boy is the day I stop practicing witchcraft." He winks at me as the double doors to the room are opened by one of the last people I wished to ever see again. The vampire looks as dull as ever—she's hardly any fun at all and I would happily tear her un-beating heart from her chest without so much as a blink.

"Am I late," she asks, continuing to walk into the room and not meeting my glare.

"A woman's prerogative, Mrs. Harker," M smiles, walking a small ways from where he was standing before stopping once more just behind the Indian, the smile on his face never wavering and making me feel even more distrust towards him. No normal person would ever smile as often as this M does.

"Please tell me this is Harker's wife with a sick note," Alan pleads, glancing over at M.

"Sick would be a mild understatement," Mina says with a soft smile, walking until she was a few feet from Alan and me," my husband's been dead for years."

"I've always wondered what part you played in his death," I sneer, earning a low growl from her.

"Gentlemen, this is Mrs. Wilhemina Harker. Mina and Rebecca's prior acquaintance with a reluctant league member may prove useful."

"I'm waiting to be impressed," Alan remarks, resting a protective hand on my shoulder. Another reason for me to like Alan—he doesn't like this whore yet.

"The fate of the world is at stake and you still have two more members to recruit." I glare over at M, snarling slightly until Alan squeezes my shoulder in silent warning. With a struggle, I force myself to relax, following Skinner out the doors of the meeting room and up the stairs the never seemed to end. The league will be lucky if this mission doesn't end with me killing Mina and another certain member that we have yet to recruit.

Charles looks around his cousin's room in confusion, wondering where the teenager had gotten to this time. His gaze is drawn to the open window and then to the sheets leading from the bed post to the window. Rubbing his nearly bald head he mutters," Rebecca is going to kill me for this."

**Okay, the first chap is usually the hardest thing to write in a story (for me, at least), so bear with me here.**

 


	2. A Thousand and one Nights

I look around me cautiously as my parents and Alan had taught me to do—for all I knew, a degenerate could be around any one of those corners or lurking in the shadows. Why couldn't my father pick a better place to live than in this rat infested block? Sighing, I knock softly on the door and wait as patently as I could, foot tapping nervously. The door finally opens a few minutes later to reveal an impeccably dressed man with long, wavy, dark hair, mustache, and a small goatee.

"Hello, Father," I smile, brushing my own dark hair out of my face from where it had fallen out of its braid on the walk down here.

"What are you doing out by yourself," he asks with a bit of anger in his voice as he ushers me inside the warm house. He leads me into his library and sits me in the comfortable, though worn, chair that we used sit in together and read before mother took me with her to Africa.

"Uh, you know, just out for a stroll and I thought I'd come by and see you." He arches a perfect brow at my answer, but doesn't question it too much. "So, what have you been doing the past twelve years?" My father shrugs, handing me a crystal tumbler filled with water while he sipped on a small glass of scotch.

"The usual, I suppose." His voice was a soft as I remember from childhood, reminding me of the sound of a gentle breeze. "Cassandra, does your mother know you're here?" I bite my lip and look down at the dusty carpet covering the floor, wondering why he let his home get so disgusting. "I believe I asked you a question, young lady." I glare up at him, rising to my feet and placing my glass on a nearby table. He doesn't seem to care about my angry display, much like when my mother used to stand up to him.

"Why do you even care, it's not like you've ever been much of a father." He sets his glass down now and stands up, an uncaring look on his face despite the fury making his brown eyes bright.

"No, I'm not a good father, but I do expect my daughter to show proper respect. Or has your time in Africa made you a savage?" He didn't raise his voice, but the words stung all the same. "You should consider yourself lucky that you weren't abducted or worse on your way here because you're too stupid to have an escort or even to call a hansom." My eyes drop to the floor again, unable to look at him. A knock on the front door downstairs saves me from any more of his angry words.

"Father—"

"Sit down and be quiet, Cassandra."

**~•~Rebecca~•~**

The rest of the League and I stand out in the cold while waiting for the door to open. Skinner pulls me close to him for warmth with a slight smirk on his face when I don't protest. "Don't enjoy yourself too much, Skinner," I murmur to him, knowing all too well how jealous my husband can be. Skinner shrugs, turning slightly as the door opens, revealing a handsome man dressed in a grey suit that looked as though it had recently been made. It was certainly well-tailored, the slight frill in places making me think of a fop, but the long cut and well-fitted material of the rest of the clothing making him resemble the heroes in books.  _A demon with an Angel's visage._

"Good evening," the man greets, looking at our group with curiosity.

"Mister Dorian Gray," Alan asks drawing my husband's gaze once more before his dark eyes could land on me.

"I am indeed."

"We came by way of M." Dorian opens the door a bit wider, still leaning on it with the casual smirk I remembered well.

"Ahh, M for mystery. Well, I told him, and I am telling you, I'm not interested." Rolling my eyes, I step forward and allow him to see me in full. His dark eyes roam hungrily over my body and I have to do my best to hide my shiver. He looked very much like the wolf that had found its prey. "Rebecca, what a surprise to see you on a mission again. I thought you stopped after the birth of Cassandra."

"Cassie's none of your concern," I snarl at him, walking past him into the dismal place I used to refer to as home. He scoffs, but doesn't say anything as he leads us up the creaking staircase. "You know, this house used to be nice," I remark," is it really too hard for you to hire one maid to keep it clean and not in a state of disrepair?" With a brief flick of my hand the house looks spotless again and it will stay like this until I leave.

"I really have missed your magic, though I remember it ridding something more annoying than dust." The fabric of my dress is pinched between his fingers as he grins at me. I smack his hand away in disgust.

"Ah, you're missing a picture, Mister Gray," Alan points out. I look up at the wall lined with paintings along the staircase and immediately notice an absence, but can't quite picture what painting had hung there before.

"And you don't miss a thing, do you, Mister Quartermain," Dorian asks, without a glance back. He leads us into my favorite room of the entire home: the library. It is a large room with floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with old and new books, two desks, a couple chairs and a couch, and a few small tables; one of which held water, glasses, and scotch. None of this mattered to me in that moment, the only thing that caught my eyes was the teenager sitting at one of the desks and looking back at me with a fearful expression.

"Cassandra Ruth Evans," I shout," why on earth aren't you at Charles's home?" She cringes slightly at the use of her full name, eyes downcast.

"Using your maiden name again; really, you hated your family." I turn my glare on him, hands balled into fists. "Oh, Skinner, help yourself," he adds, noticing Skinner hovering around the small table which held the drinks. "Rebecca, there's nothing wrong with a girl wanting to see her father. Believe it or not, most people consider that normal." Alan touches my arm, his gaze alone telling me to calm down. I do so reluctantly, giving Dorian and my daughter one last glare.

"I'm impressed, Mister Gray," says the Indian I'd learned was named Nemo," you take Skinner's uniqueness in your stride."

"Yes, well, I've seen too much in my life to shock easily." He glances between Mina and me as he says this with a predatory light in his eyes. He settles into one of the armchairs, cane in hand. He rarely left the house without it because of the blade hidden within that only a select few know about. "Although, I must say I was surprised to see you two again." Mina sits on the couch next to the chair Dorian's occupying.

"Well, our last parting was such sweet sorrow," Mina responds without revealing any hint of emotion. I smirk, remembering that night vividly.

"Oh yes, that was the next you caught him with a whore isn't it," I ask and at Mina's nod I continue," I thought so. Dorian has never been the type of man to settle for one woman—alive or otherwise." I sit on the arm of Dorian's chair with a satisfied smirk.

"Let me guess, you're an enticement," he says to Mina, holding her gaze for a moment before looking over at me," and since you're my wife, you'll be eager to service my every  _need_." Feeling like torturing the immortal, I allow the very tip of my tongue to peek out and run slowly across my top lip, earning a near-inaudible groan from my husband. He turns his attention to Alan for distraction, missing my wicked smile. "They say you're indestructible, Quartermain."

"Well, a witch doctor did bless me once, I had saved his village—he said Africa would never allow me to die." I smile at the memory, looking down at the beaded bracelet on my wrist that one of the children had given me in thanks.

"But you're not Africa now."

"No." I elbow Dorian's shoulder for pointing it out. He barely spares me a glance when Nemo starts talking.

"I confess a curiosity of what the files say about Mister Gray. We, all of us, have trades useful in the endeavor—a hunter, a scientist, a witch—even Skinner has stealth." Said invisible man holds up his glass of scotch before taking a drink. "What have you," Nemo inquires.  _If only you knew, Nemo, if only you knew._

"I have experience," Dorian answers vaguely, fiddling with the top of his cane.

"Gray and I have met before," Alan interjects before Nemo can interrogate further," many years ago at Eton college."

"A lecture, no doubt," Mina says in her know-it-all tone," you the nation's hero and Dorian the eager listening boy." I roll my eyes at her predictable way of thinking, wondering how she's made it in the world alive (in a manner of speaking) thus far.  _Try again, bitch_ , I think to myself, glad that she'd gotten it wrong. A dead slug has more of a personality than the vampire as far as I choose to tell. I absolutely loathed Mina and there would be no changing that anytime soon.

"Quite the reverse, actually; it was Gray visiting Eton and I was the boy." The last bit he said while looking at Mina. Before I got the chance to make a snide remark about Mina not being as intelligent as she liked to think she was, Alan pulls out his pistol and begins to look around the balcony that surrounded the top of the room with alarm. I'd learned long ago to trust his instincts, no matter how bizarre they seemed, so I rush over to my daughter and force her under the desk, telling her to stay down until Alan or I tell her to do otherwise. Cassandra obeys without question, grabbing the curved dagger Dorian keeps in the top desk drawer. Men with armored plates on their chests and strange guns seem to appear out of nowhere on the balcony. "Gray," Alan asks, lowering his pistol to make it harder for anyone to see.

"They're not mine," Dorian answers, almost sounding offended.

"They're mine," a rasping voice states from above. A man wearing a dark blue, fur-lined cloak, a silver mask, and armor plating joins the men around us. I begin to focus, feeling the air around me crackling with the magic I'll need to draw on soon if I want to keep my child safe. A mother bear wouldn't stand a chance against me when Cassandra's in danger.

"First meetings usually warrant introductions," Alan snaps back.

"Of course." The man's voice is laced with a German accent, giving more credit that Germany is behind the recent attacks that made England create the League in the first place; a race for arms that could result in total catastrophe for the entire world. "I am the Fantom and you are the League of so-called Extraordinary Gentlemen. Introductions made. Oh, and I'm scarred, Mister Quartermain, not blind. Drop the gun." Alan begrudgingly lets his pistol drop to the ground. "Your mission is to stop me. That, of course, I cannot permit. So I give to you all a one-time invitation—join me.

"You're either daft," I state in a strong voice, taking a couple of steps forward," or just plain idiotic." The Fantom turns his gaze on me, the only visible eye he has boring into me. "Could it be that you are both, Fantom? Why would any of us want to help you profit from your arms race?"

He starts down the spiral staircase. "I cannot deny that fortunes are made in war, imagine the riches that will be made from a world war.

"He's not wrong," Skinner says in his usual cheerful tone.

"Speak for yourself," Dorian remarks, fingers of one hand gripping my wrist and pulling me discreetly to his side. The Fantom approaches Alan at a calm pace, kicking the pistol away and making it slam into the wall. The next thing I know, all Hell has broken loose and Dorian is pushing me behind one of the bookcases. "Focus," is all he says to me before joining the fray with his sword.

**Can anyone spot the tiny Hunger Games reference? It's a Haymitch line.**

 


	3. Courageous

After a few deep breaths I step out from behind the bookcase and begin to fight as best as I could, staying close to the desk that was hiding my daughter. A man walks up to me with a smirk firmly in place as he aims one of the automatic guns my way, I raise an eyebrow at him and he flies backwards—dead before he hit the ground. Being a witch certainly makes dispatching attackers easy. One after another, men try to fight me and end up dead in a neat pile. Once or twice another League member would dispatch someone before I had the chance, but I wasn't complaining.

Pages from books were falling like rain and it made me sad to see innocent books being caught in the crossfire. The fight was beginning to calm when I see Dorian take a large amount of bullets to the chest without flinching. Once the gun was out of ammunition, Dorian pushes it away, cuts off the man's breastplate, and runs him through with the ever present sword. As the marksman was falling to his knees, he grabs hold of Dorian's shirt and rips it, revealing Dorian's bare chest as the bullet wounds dissolve into ash.

"What are you," the marksman asks as he drops the rest of the way to the floor.

"I'm complicated," my husband replies.  _Well, that's certainly one way to put it, I guess_. He kicks the marksman the rest of the way off his sword and walks away to the spiral stairs that lead to the balcony so he could check that we didn't miss anyone.

"You're not too complicated," I quip, sitting on the edge of the desk," you're simply an ass."

"And here I thought swearing in front of our only child was below you." I sneer at him, watching Cassie peek around before standing completely and wiping some dust off her dress. She still clutches the dagger tightly in her hand, knuckles turning white. Skinner walks back into the room and places his hat on his head, careful not to disturb the paste that lets us see him.

"And I thought I was special," he smirks," you're invulnerable to harm."

"I don't like to boast." That's a lie if I ever heard one. With a shake of my head, I take the dagger from Cassie and pull her into a hug. "What's happened to Mina?" Maybe she's been beheaded.

"Probably hip-deep in some sort of trouble," Alan says, only half-joking. That's probably the truth knowing how that walking drama is. He walks over to us and checks over Cassandra for any injuries I may have missed. She has a shallow scratch on her cheek that will heal easily on its own without having to use magic on it. Mina steps around the corner, adjusting her velvet scarf and coat.

"Don't be such an alarmist, Mister Q," Mina scolds," and my hips are none of your concern." As she straightens from picking up her hat a man grabs her, a knife at her throat. All the men hold up their weapons, but I just push Cassandra behind me with a fierce glare. Kill the vampire if you want, but touch my baby and you'll be begging for death.

"Shoot," the man yells, looking at each of us," go on!" Alan and some new man lower their guns, Dorian and Nemo sheath their swords, and Skinner drops the thick book he was holding. "I guessed as much, that they would do anything to protect you."

"Not all of us," I mutter under my breath only loud enough for Cassie to hear. She stifles a laugh, one gloved hand covering her mouth. I look over my shoulder at her with a smile and she knew I'd temporarily forgiven her.

"That's your biggest mistake," Mina tells the man with a soft growl," thinking that I need them to protect me." The man doesn't have time to be confused as Mina turns around and sinks her fangs deep into his throat. Grimacing, I turn completely and cover my daughter's eyes. She didn't need to see the man's grizzly death, she was far too young to have to see such violence. All but Dorian and I look shocked at what Mina does, the two of us knowing her secret well.

"Boy," says the newcomer, making his presence known to the others once Mina straightened up again and the marksman was dead," they told me European women had funny ways." I look over at Alan, but see he's completely relaxed and senses no threat from the man. "You missed a spot."

"And you are?"

"Special Agent Sawyer of the American Secret Service," he introduces, chin raised proudly. His accent alone told me where he was from, the accent sounding exotic compared to the cultured (or mostly cultured in Skinner's case) accents most of us speak in and Alan's Scottish one.

"Then America is aware of the situation," Alan asks, stepping forward.

"Well, a war starts in Europe, how long is it gonna take before it crosses the Atlantic? I followed ya. I knocked out a straggler and I took his place."

"Well, aren't you a smart lad," I say with a bit of sarcasm, earning a smirk from both Dorian and Skinner who then glare at each other. Cassie's cheeks flush a pale pink when she briefly meets the boy's gaze, something that has me a little concerned. I highly doubt the young American was the type that would settle down any time soon and I won't have my daughter getting her heart broken by the boy.

"Very noble," Dorian walks towards him, stopping after a few feet," but this is a private party and you're not invited." I raise an eyebrow at my husband, Cassie and I sharing a look before turning back to the scene playing out in front of us.

"Actually, Dorian's declined," Mina points out," so we are one shy of a full deck."

"On the contrary, the battle was just the spur I needed—that and the thrill of friendships renewed."  _Dear God, Dorian is so full of himself at times like this_. "So you're not needed." Dorian already has a cheeky grin in place, as though he's won something no one else can have or even hope to have. It was a look only Dorian could accomplish without looking the fool. His metaphorical bubble bursts when Alan ignores everything Dorian just said and allows Sawyer into the group. I smile at my husband, glad that he's finally embarrassed himself instead of me this time.

* * *

 

We leave out the back door that will take us directly to the docks with Dorian leading the way. "So, what's the next port of call," my husband asks, sound uninterested.

"Paris," Nemo answers as our group goes down rickety stairs, weakened by years of salt and rain. "We have one last member to recruit."

"Capture is more accurate," Alan puts in," and quite the hunt it will be." My brows furrow in confusion at his choice of wording. Were we expected to capture some kind of beast that could possibly cause us harm? Surely M wouldn't force that on us.

"You make him sound like some kind of animal," Mina says, back to her usual self—you know the one that makes me wish I had a wooden stake to drive through her heart. We come to a stop once we're off the stairs on the actual dock.

"Oh, and speaking thus, Mrs. Harker, you're conduct a moment ago?" Alan gestures to Dorian's home with his rifle, Matilda. Yes, I've always thought she was a monster, so Alan certainly got that right. I smile with satisfaction when Mina gains a look akin to a cornered animal, if only for a second so short that many would miss it.

"Indeed," Skinner speaks, shifting slightly," we were all  _aquiver_ with curiosity." Mina steps a bit away from the group with her back to us so that all eyes are on her, but she didn't have to return their gazes just yet.

"Well, my husband was Jonathan Harker," she confesses after a moment. "Together with a professor named Van Helsing, we fought a dangerous evil. It had a name—Dracula. He was Transylvanian." I look away the moment Dorian catches my eyes, not wanting him the see the flash of anger I felt. Count Dracula is a very distant ancestor of mine; throughout the years the vampirism faded from our family and we began to focus on witchcraft instead. Whatever we could get our hands on that would make us nearly immortal. Unlike Dorian, a few things could kill me—like a severe gunshot wound or something of the like.

"European? One of those radicals the newspapers love to report on?"  _If only it were that simple, Skinner, then my daughter wouldn't have the slightest curiosity about magic_.

"I don't know, Mister Skinner." Mina turns to face us and pulls back the high collar of her coat, revealing two small, circular scars. "Is the vampiric sucking of people's blood radical behavior?" Skinner looks down, speechless for once in his life.

"Ahh," Nemo smiles, drawing our attention to where he's looking at the deep water beneath our feet. "Our transportation is forthcoming." The captain walks to the edge of the dock, leaving us to follow after him in curiosity. Looking down, I notice the water bubbling a little at the surface.

"A boat," Sawyer asks, sounding doubtful.

"It travels on water if that's what you mean." As he turns to face us with his arms crossed, the largest ship I've ever seen emerged out of the water behind him, "And beneath it." I stare in awe at the impossibly large vessel, taking a couple steps back. It was a giant silver thing with large designs welded into the metal and random intervals, some looking like the feathers of birds that had been outstretched and layered on top of each other. "Behold,  _Nautilus_ , the sword of the ocean. Next stop, Paris."

 


	4. Pressure

I put my corset in one of the drawers in my armoire with a sigh of relief—corsets irritate me and once they're off for the night I don't usually plan on putting them back on. Taking in a deep breath of air, I slide my dirty shift off and pull on my night dress. I had just started to let my hair down when a knock sounded at my door. Curious as to whom it was, I open the door and roll my eyes when I see my husband standing in the hall. "What do you want, Dorian?" He pushes his way past me and into my room, looking around him at the meager belongings I had brought with me.

"Just thought I'd check on you,” he answers in his soft yet smug voice. “There's no harm in that is there?" I shut the bedroom door and walk back to my vanity, taking out the last of my hair pins and putting them in a small, velvet box safely hidden in my vanity drawer. "How are you?" Ignoring him, I continue to put away the rest of my clothing. Dorian steps up behind me, turns me to face him, and then pulls me into a tender hug.

"I'm worried to the point of almost being sick," I admit after a while in a soft voice," my little girl is out there trying to catch her first monster and I've cried seven times since she left with Alan and Agent Sawyer." He runs his fingers through my dark hair in a soothing motion that he knows will help me to calm down a little. "She's only a child, what if something happens and I'm not there for her?"

"Shh, Rebecca, she's our child and we both know how strong she is," he tells me with more confidence than I thought possible. "She's too hard headed to let herself get hurt and she's got the Great White Hunter with her—Quartermain will not let anything happen to Cassandra if he wishes to continue living." Pulling back slightly I look into his dark brown eyes to see if he was just trying to placate me, but find only truth and the lust that seems to always be there when he was around women—men too now that I think on it. "Now, let us focus on something positive," he says in a cheery tone that was unlike him," you're no longer seasick."

"The only reason I was sick the last time we were on a ship was because I had a child in my belly," I say defensively, hands on his chest. He chuckles, tilting his head to place a kiss on my lips, focusing so much passion into it that I felt my knees go weak.

"Shall we try for a second?" I moan, pulling his face towards mine again for another kiss, his tongue twines with mine as I'm pushed closer and closer to the large bed. Dorian's hands move from my waist the backs of my thighs, lifting me and lightly tossing me onto the bed before crawling over me with a mischievous light in his eyes. Instead of meeting me for another kiss, his lips attack the creamy skin of my neck, leaving marks every now and then and making my back arch off the bed when he bites where my neck and shoulder meet. He knew that was sensitive and loved to exploit it.

I tilt my head to the side to let him have easier access, squirming beneath him in slight impatience.

"Don't tease, Dorian," I growl when he thwarts my attempt to flip us over and take control. He chuckles, mouth leaving my neck to explore the tops of my breasts that the night dress left exposed. One hand holds onto my left hip to keep me from moving too much and the other rests beside my head so he doesn't put all of his weight on me. With a sly grin, I take one of his fingers in my mouth, teeth grazing it slightly and drawing a low moan from his perfect lips. I swirl my tongue around the tip of his finger, watching as his resolve slowly begins to crumble.

"Now who's teasing," he growls in my ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth. The hand on my hip moves to push my night dress up around my hips so that he has better access to my moist center. Gasping, I raise my hips to meet his fingers, hands grasping the sheets tightly in my fists. Dorian chuckles, lips moving back to my neck and leaving a trail of fire in his wake. He hisses when my leg rubs against the bulge in his trousers; sitting back and working to remove his suit jacket, shirt, and cravat.

I sit up as well—starting on his belt and trousers, freeing his hard member from its prison. Dorian kicks his pants the rest of the way off and crushes his lips against mine again, breaking away only to pull my night dress over my head and throwing it somewhere in the room. Both of us fall back onto the bed with him on top.

"Dorian," I groan, gripping his shoulders tightly and flipping him over onto his back. I wink at him, leaning down and paying him back for tormenting me earlier. I bite his bottom lip, letting my tongue run over the mark and soothe it. He grips my hips as I lower myself onto him, my head thrown back in ecstasy. Dorian was large, there was no doubt in my mind about that. His grip tightens, ensuring I would have bruises later, but right now it only added to my pleasure. It's been a long time since I've felt anything like this; sure, I've had my share of lovers, but none of them as experienced as Dorian. My husband flips us again, raising my legs until they rested on his shoulders and let him go deeper. I bite my fist to muffle a scream when he hits that spot that makes everything have a golden glow about it. He keeps hitting it after seeing my reaction—widened eyes, opened mouth, raspy moans, and almost screams.

"Let go, Rebecca," he whispers in my ear, voice strained as he begins to speed up. Then he does something that had my control snapping, he brings his hand down and rubs furiously at the small bundle of nerves between my thighs.

"Dorian," I shout, digging my nails into the silken sheets and ripping them slightly. Pleasure wraps around me like a warm blanket, making me shake from my toes all the way up to my head. Dorian collapses on the bed next to me, breathing just as heavily as I was. He wraps an arm around my waist pulling me until my back was flush against his chest.

"I love you, Rebecca." It only takes those simple words to bring me back to reality. Sitting up, I begin to search for my night dress.

"Don't lie to me, Dorian, you only love yourself."

**~•~Cassandra~•~**

Alan, Tom, and I chase a monster through the dark streets of Paris, our footsteps and hard breathing sounding loud in the otherwise quiet night. "I don't see what we need a big monkey for," Tom complains as we watch Hyde run on the roofs of different buildings.

"That big monkey's been terrorizing the Rue morgue for months," Alan calls back to us with amusement coloring his words. "Imagine the mayhem he'll give the enemy." I laugh at that, struggling only slightly to keep up with the two men. Tom was only a few years older than me, barely classified as a man, but he was nearly as tall as my father. We stop for a moment as Alan raises Matilda up and takes a shot, barely missing Hyde and hitting the chimney behind the creature.

"How did you miss him," I question as we begin to run again," the thing's enormous!"

"I'm not aiming to hit him." We stop again and Alan raises Matilda once more. "Turn left, Mister Hyde." The boom of the rifle fills the air, followed by the crumbling of yet another chimney. Hyde turns the way Alan wanted him to and I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. _Alan Quartermain is a genius when it comes to hunting!_ "Your turn, boy," Alan informs Tom. As we round the next corner, Tom brings out two pistols and begins to fire rapidly, but achieving nothing. "Make him turn left, boy! If you can't do it with one bullet, don't do it at all."

"Care for a demonstration," I smirk, a ball of magic glowing faintly as I hurl it at my intended destination. The chimney next to Hyde explodes, ruble tumbling to the street and thankfully missing us. "Damn, am I good or what?"

"Don't curse," Alan scolds with a proud look.

"He's doubled back," Tom points out dejectedly as we turn again to follow Hyde, neither of us bother to answer him as we continue to run. Suddenly, Alan is pulling Tom back into an alley and pushing me out of the way of a piece of ruble that Hyde threw at us.

"That was naughty." I let out a relieved breath, heart hammering in my chest, though I felt equal parts excitement and fear. "Eyes open, I can't protect you all the time." Looking up, I catch Alan's gaze and nod at him to show I was relatively unhurt as I join them in the alleyway. Alan sniffs the air with a look of slight surprise. "He's afraid." Tom and I share a confused look, sniffing the air for ourselves. A disgusting smell makes me scrunch up my nose and look around us for the source.

"I can't smell anything." Alan starts off again, but more cautiously as I tap Tom on the shoulder and point at the ground.

"I can, you're standing in feces,” I inform him with a pat to his shoulder.

“Ah man.” While he worked to clean off his shoe, I leave the alley and watch Alan fire three quick shots to make Hyde jump to the next building, and then he fires two more shots that make Hyde fall to the ground in a net made of thick rope. With a nod from Alan, I pull the trigger on the flare gun that Nemo had given me and the net is pulled tightly shut and drug through the streets into the _Nautilus_. Tom picks up the giant top hat of Hyde's when he joins us, brushing off the top slightly.

"Boy, and I thought Skinner had a big head."

**~•~Rebecca~•~**

The sudden shaking of my bed makes me fall to the floor and wake up, narrowly missing a meeting between my forehead and the small table beside my bed. "What the...?" The entire ship seemed to be shaking and it didn't help me any as I tried to pull on my robe and leave my room without falling again. I round a corner in time to see one of Nemo's crew being thrown out of a room and into the hallway.

"Or the prize bagged him," Dorian was saying as he and Skinner went into the room on my right. Mina comes to stand next to me with a surprised look before we both follow Dorian into the room to see what all the fuss is about.

"Stay back if you value your lives," Alan warns us. Chained up in the center of the room is a large, deformed man that is fighting against his captors with everything he's got, chains being slung everywhere. Skinner is forced to the floor when one of the crew is thrown into him. I jump, backing away slightly and looking for my daughter. "Cassie, go to your mother!" Cassandra turns in the direction Alan's pointing and rushes over to me with an excited grin.

“Mother, I helped capture him,” she tells me breathlessly, tanned cheeks a rosy pink color.

"Mister Hyde, you've done terrible things in England," Alan's voice gains the deformed man's attention, "so terrible that you've fled the country." At Alan's words Hyde growls, beginning to pace and tug at his chains—more calmly now. "And I'm ashamed to say that Her Majesty's government is willing to offer you amnesty in return for your services. Would you like to go home?" Hyde stops his pacing and turns to face Alan.

"Home," he asks in a voice deeper than I've ever heard. "Home's where the heart is, that's what they say. And I have been missing London so. Its sorrow is as sweet to me as a rare wine.” He breaths were more like gasps and his deformed, bulging muscles reminded me of the gorillas I had seen as a small child. “I'm yours." I pull Cassie slightly behind me in case Hyde does something I don't like, but the beast’s gaze moves from Mina to Sawyer before he turns away slightly. "Don't be afraid."

"Who says I'm afraid," Sawyer asks boldly.

"You do," Hyde roars, slinging one of his chains at Sawyer, who had barely enough time to duck before the chain crashed into the spot where his head was moments before. "You stink of fear!"

"Quite the parlor trick," Dorian says in his usual confidant tone.

"Wait to see my next one." Hyde groans, his bones making horrible cracking sounds. My eyes widen as he starts writhing against the chains as though he had absolutely no control over his body. Slowly he begins to shrink and change until there's a completely different man standing before us, the chains falling off him while he does his best to hold the large trousers in place. The man standing before us now had the build of most wealthy people, somewhere between plump and scrawny, with an unusual tan and light brown hair that fell slightly in his eyes. "Doctor Jekyll," he introduces, breathing heavily," at your service."

"So," Alan says, turning to face us," the League is set." Cassie, Mina, and I stare at Alan as though he'd lost his mind. Why would M want us to recruit such a beastly man that might not even have control over himself? If that Hyde fellow does anything to my daughter I'll send him to the deepest circle of hell and torture him myself.

"So is the date for the conference," Nemo tells us after reading a telegraph," we have three days."

"Three days," Sawyer asks in disbelief," can this canoe do that?"

"You underestimate to  _Nautilus_ , sir. You underestimate her greatly." I guess we'll find out in three days.


	5. Dysfunctional Family

The sun is warm on my face as I stand out on the observation deck. It was nice not to be cooped up in the _Nautilus_ for once and I intended to spend as long as I could out here—just relaxing and reading a little. One of the books I brought with me is _The_   _Scarlet Letter_  and I've heard it was well-written and a good read. I had just gotten settled in a deck chair and opened the book to my spot when a shadow blocks out the sun above me. "Hm, how very ironic," Dorian smiles, hands descending on my shoulders," a woman found guilty of adultery and forced to wear a scarlet A. Sound familiar to you, Rebecca?" I shrug off his hands, turning in the chair to face him.

"Indeed it does, I think you'd look lovely in scarlet." With that I get up and move my chair away from Dorian, but not before I hear Sawyer laughing at what I said. That kid is beginning to grow on me. "Mina," I greet coldly, continuing to drag my chair past her with a loud scraping sound and my head held high. Once in a suitable spot away from the others I sit in the chair again and attempt to read. After a few minutes of struggle, though, I slam the book shut a drop it on the ground beside my chair. I've always had problems with straightening the letters out, but it seems to worsen when I feel stressed and today was no different. At least Cassie doesn't have the problem I do; she can read two novels in a week if they're any good.

"Still havin' trouble with that," Skinner asks, picking up my book and sitting at the foot of the chair. I nod, placing my feet in his lap with a sad smile. "Don't worry, Becky, you'll beat it someday and then we'll never get you away from books."

"I'll believe it when I see it," I tell him with a laugh. He grins at me, patting my knee before standing and holding his hand out for me to take.

"The solar panels are fully charged," Nemo declares," we'll be diving in a moment." With a sigh, I take Skinner's hand and let him lead me back inside the ship with a nod to the Captain.

"I get tired of seeing the same thing day after day—surfacing was a nice change, but it didn't last long enough." Skinner nods in agreement, adjusting his hat. "Care for a drink and a little conversation?"

"As tempting as that is, I feel the need to explore a little," he grins with a wink. I frown at him, hands on my hips. "Exploring ain't the same thing as stealing, sweetheart. I have to be a good boy if I want that antidote, remember?" I continue to stare at him. "Fine," he grumbles, pulling something out of his coat pocket and placing it in my hand before walking away. Shaking my head, I look down to see what he'd stolen—a small black velvet box that fit perfectly in my palm.

"That sneaky bastard was in my room!" I'd get him later, right now a nap would be perfect to help me calm down. Perhaps I'll dream up something that'll help me keep Skinner out of my personal belongings. Once back in my room I open the box to make sure my wedding ring was still in there and the ruby stone wasn't missing. "Good, he does have a bit of common sense." I place the box at the bottom of a shoe box before crawling into my bed and letting sleep take over.

**Two Hours Later**

I wake to someone's arms wrapped around my waist and their lips on my neck. Far beyond the point of caring, I push whoever it is onto the floor and curl up underneath the comforter again with a contended sigh. "That wasn't very ladylike," Dorian says with irritation clear in his smooth voice. I mumble to myself a little, pulling one of the pillows closer to me. No one should interrupt a woman's nap, he's lucky I can't actually wound him. "Come now, Rebecca, dinner is being served as we speak and I know how you like your food." Standing up with a snarl of rage, I slap him hard enough for his head to snap to the side.

"Never talk to me like that again, Dorian Gray, or I'll do more than hit you!" He grabs my wrist and pins me against the wall, twisting my arm behind my back to keep me in place. "Let me go!"

"Give me a good reason and I might."

"Mother," Cassandra calls out, her footsteps getting closer to my room," are you in here?" Reluctantly, Dorian lets go so Cassandra wouldn't know what he was doing and walks into the hallway. "What were you and Father talking about?"

"Nothing, Cassie," I tell her as I work on getting my hair under control, eventually just tying it back. "Let's go join the others for dinner." She nods, looking at me suspiciously but saying nothing the rest of the way to the dining room.

* * *

 

Alan smiles when Cassie and I enter the dining room, gesturing to two seats he'd saved for us. I nod my thanks and take my seat between Alan and Cassandra, noticing she instantly has a smile ready for the American sitting next to her and he had one for her. "Hello, Tom," she greets, a pale blush coloring her cheeks.

"Hey, Cassie," Sawyer smiles and I share a smile with Alan, deciding to let the pair talk.

"How have you been faring, Rebecca, I haven't been able to talk to you much since we boarded," Alan asks with the faint Scottish accent that I've grown to like.

"I've been well," I answer and notice his weathered face brightens at this. He's come to think of me as a sister and Cassandra as a granddaughter over the years and would gladly give his life for Cassie and I if need be, knowing that I'd do the same if situations were reversed. "How about you Alan? I heard you felt a bit ill this morning." He shrugs off my concern, claiming it was just a bout of seasickness. "You're not pregnant I hope." We laugh together like we did back in Africa and I quickly found myself missing those simple days we'd spend out on the veranda or in the tavern. It's strange to think that only two days ago my little family was laughing over Nigel's latest mishap and now Nigel was dead and the three of us were on a new mission.

I wish I could just go back and freeze time when everyone was happy.

 


	6. The Wolf Among Sheep

I was walking to my daughter's room when I notice Mina and Alan standing in the hallway observing something I couldn't see. Curious, I make my way over and stand between them, looking in the direction they are. Nemo is in the beginning of his usual worship of his goddess, but I see nothing that could be deemed as interesting. I never really got around to believing in one god or another, so I can't exactly see what other people's fascination with them is.

"That's Kali," Mina informs Alan and I," Goddess of Death. Nemo worships death, can we trust him?"

"Many would say you are death," I reply, turning to face the vampire," can we trust you?" Not expecting to get an answer, I walk back down the hall and to the left towards my daughter's room. Halfway there something bumps against my shoulder, nearly causing me to fall. "Watch it, Skinner!" Shaking my head and grumbling under my breath, I finally make it to Cassandra's door, knocking three times as usual and tapping my foot until she answers.

"What," she asks, slightly out of breath," what is it?" My eyebrows furrow in confusion at my daughter's behavior. "Are we in Venice yet or is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong...Are you okay, Cassie? You seem a bit out of breath."

She shrugs her shoulders saying," Never felt better."

"God, you're not having sex with Skinner, are you?" Her dark eyes widen and she shakes her head rapidly back and forth. "Are you sure, I just felt him run past me and he wasn’t dressed."

"Mother, I'm not having sex with anyone, I've just got back from running with Tom!"

"I'd say that too if I were sleeping with someone," I grumble, walking down the hall to my own room. "Lord, whoever it is she's got in her room better not get her pregnant and just leave her. If that happens I'll have to kill him." I close my door behind me and head into my bathing room with fresh clothing and my soap. I'd asked one of the crew members that wasn't busy to run me some hot water while I talked to my daughter and he was just finishing up when I walked in. "Thank you," I smile at the young man," I'm sure Nemo's wondering where you are, tell him it's my fault."

"Yes, Mrs. Gray," he says with a slight bow before walking out, a blush coloring his tanned cheeks. I undress, laying my clothes neatly on a chair, and quickly climb into the tub filled with warm, scented water. I let out a sigh as I relax, leaning against the back of the tub with my arms on either side, gripping the edges lightly. This is just what I've needed, time to myself to relax without worrying about anything.

"I've always loved that smell on you," states an unwelcome voice," it reminds me of cinnamon." I open my eyes to glare up at Dorian, not bothering with modesty. He's seen it all numerous times before and there was no point in covering up now. "Enough with the sour looks, Rebecca, don't you think it's time to apologize for yesterday?"

"I have no reason to apologize to you," I snarl, anger coming to the surface faster than ever before. "If you want what I'm sure you want, then the vampire is down the hall and she'll probably be glad to have you." Dorian takes off his jacket and places it on the back of the chair before sitting on my fresh clothing, crossing one leg over the other. "Didn't I make it quite clear you aren't welcome in here?" He gives me a wolfish grin, making a show of getting comfortable in the chair. For once he didn't have his cane with him, but that only made my nerves intensify.

"We should be arriving in Venice any time now, are you nervous?" He tilts his head to the side a little, waiting patiently and curiously for my answer. Knowing that he wasn't leaving anytime soon, I begin to wash and ignore him to the best of my ability, though his stare felt like a palpable thing against my back. When he actually touches my back I jump and try to spin around, but he keeps a firm hold on my shoulders. "Now, relax,  _darling_ , I'm just going to wash your back where you may not be able to reach."

"I'll use magic for that—"

"Try again, Nemo's hidden little hex bags all around the ship so that the most magic you can accomplish is making a card disappear up your sleeve." It was obvious Nemo doesn't trust me by the stern set of his mouth nearly hidden behind his long beard and mustache. Dorian pries the bar of soap from my hands rubs it until he works up a sufficient enough lather to massage into my back and shoulders. With a groan, I relax into his soothing hands, remembering how he used to do this when I was pregnant with Cassie. I never notice as he plucks a single strand of hair from my head and place it in his trousers pocket, I just feel his hands making all the stress leave my muscles.

"Mm, how do you manage that?" He chuckles, leaning forward to whisper in my ear, never mind that his suit vest and shirt were soaking in water and soap.

"Perhaps I'll tell you one day and you can repay the favor." His voice has grown deeper sending a shiver down my spine. "How about a nightcap before you retire for the evening, Rebecca?"

"Alright, just let me get dressed and I'll be out in a moment." He nods, taking his jacket with him into my sleeping quarters. Reluctantly, I leave the water and begin to dry myself off before pulling on a shift, my corset (though looser than usual), a flowing, emerald green skirt that stopped at my ankles, and a white blouse; deciding to let my hair hang in natural waves down my back instead of putting it up. Dorian glances at me over his shoulder as I enter the room, holding his flask out for me to grab. I take it with a languid smile, tilting it back and taking a long drink from it, sputtering only slightly. It was a bit different than what I was expecting, though tasted mainly like the expensive brandy Dorian usually has in it.

"Careful, Rebecca," he tells me with a lazy smirk of his own, easily catching me when I begin to fall. As though he'd been expecting it. “We both know you're not the greatest when holding your liquor."

And then everything was black.

**~•~Cassandra~•~**

"Cassie, why don't you go find your mother," Alan instructs in his thick Scottish brogue. I nod, making my way through the hallways and to my mother's door, knocking a couple of times and waiting. After a few minutes of quiet and mom not appearing I crack the door open and peek inside.

"Mother," I call out and receive no answer," Mother, are you in here?" Growing concerned, I walk further in the room and can make out a figure lying in the massive bed. I walk closer and find that it's my mother on the bed, her normally pale skin looking ashen and her breathing was a bit shallower than normal. "Mother, are you okay?" She mumbles something about not feeling well before she passes out completely. Shaking my head, I cover her up and walk back to the others. "Mother's not feeling well, so she's going stay on the ship. I'll take her place." Alan looks concerned but doesn't protest as I follow our little group, minus Skinner, outside. Most of the people here suspected that Skinner was a spy for the Fantom, all the evidence points to him, but I have a feeling that we're missing something important.

"Deploy the divers beneath the city," Nemo commands," the explosives must be found."

"What about Skinner," Tom asks, one hand resting on the butt of one of his pistols.

"I'd be alert for his treachery," Father responds confidently, leaning on his cane that doubled as a sword. Fireworks exploding overhead make all of us jump and glare when we realize it wasn't a bomb after all. The moment we relaxed the real explosion happened, causing me to fall on the hard ground with a surprised shout, though I couldn’t help my contentment as Tom helps me to my feet with a worried expression.

"The buildings are falling like dominoes," a crew member shouts from the crow's nest, pointing towards the carnival. _This is not going to end well, I just know it_. Alan looks round the corner before facing us again.

"There must be more than one bomb," he guesses," Nemo the bombs are at the city center! We must stake out one key building."

"Yes," Nemo nods enthusiastically," get ahead of the collapse and destroy the next building."

"Interrupt the chain of destruction," Tom adds, catching on quickly.

"With a beacon placed for the exact coordinates I could launch a rocket and take out the domino."

"That's ridiculous," my father interrupts," we'd never get there on time!"

"I hate to admit it, but Father has a point. How could we manage to get exact coordinates when half of our group are lucky to be able to shoot a bloody gun?" Mina looks at me with one perfect eyebrow raised. "Don't give me that look, Harker, not when I could easily hex you and feel no remorse."

"There will be no room for error, but I tell you, it could work," Nemo insists.

"I'm an immortal, sir, not a Gazelle,” Father quips,” how do you expect to outrun this?" Another good point from Father, I may just be sick. Tom comes out of the _Nautilus_ again driving some strange type of horseless buggy. Alan, Mina, and Father get in it, but Father stops me when I try. "I don't think so, you'll stay here and help Nemo as well as you can without being a nuisance." I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. "I may not be much of one, but I am your father and you'll learn to listen to me one way or another, now go!" Growling, I storm back onto the ship and head to my room, the plan being to pack a few things I might need, a gun for example, and head off after them.

When I open the door to my quarters a white gloved hand reaches out and grabs me by the throat, slamming the door shut behind us. "Take a deep breath," the man holding me smiles, placing a white cloth over my mouth and nose until I can no longer fight the blackness threatening to take over...At least, he thought so. I had allowed myself to go limp and started to fight the second he stuffed the cloth in his pocket. I elbow the man sharply in his stomach and push away from him.

When he comes at me again I pick up a glass decanter of water and smash it over his abnormally large head. Still, the man brushes glass shards out of his hair and comes after me again. I raise my arms to cover my face, a blast of protective magic shooting from me and throwing my attacker against the wall and sending him into unconsciousness.

“Well, that was tedious."

 


End file.
